Scandals Of The Powerful: Uncovering the Correttis / A Legacy of Secrets

‘Unfortunately?’

‘They went to heaven. I went to hell.’

She could not fathom such pain, just stared for a moment.

‘Did you...?’ She was nearly crying. ‘Did you have children?’

He closed his eyes.

Fattispecie, Anton thought. ‘No.’

‘How could you stand to sit in the same restaurant?’ Emily asked.

‘Because I do not yet know if it was the Correttis that were responsible.’ He rinsed his face and forgot to dry it because, yes, he was dreading today. ‘But there will be other family heads there today. Almost certainly the one who ordered the hit will be...’ Anton stopped speaking then. She was right—he almost could not stand to be in the church today, had been dreading it since the wedding was announced. The only reprieve was Emily, and he pulled her in for a fierce kiss. His breath was shallow and ragged. He felt her soft lips and it did not match his mood. He loathed sharing and he wasn’t about to. He pulled his mouth away.

‘Get ready.’

‘I can’t till my dress arrives.’

‘Your make-up.’

He went to leave, to release her, yet at the last moment hauled her back to him, a mire of confusion, for he wanted her but he did not. He could not share pain.

Emily could.

She felt the push and then the pull of his hands and the agony in his lips. She kissed down his neck and he held her close. She continued down his chest and he did not halt her as she went to her knees. She kissed his stomach and then down his thighs, heard his moan as she coaxed him from hell with her mouth.

His hands bunched at his sides as he stopped hating and loathing and thought of nothing but Emily on a morning he had dreaded for so long. He felt soft lips become firm, felt the comfort of her tongue and mouth and gave in.

She swallowed his tension—there was no other word for it—but she relished it a moment on her tongue and then, a bit shocked at her own boldness, she just knelt there until he pulled her up to him and held her fiercely. They clung on to each other for a long moment, Emily scared of her own feelings toward this very dark man, Anton basking in the calm she had just allowed, both holding each other till a bell rung out.

‘That will be your wardrobe.’

‘I hope you’ve got good taste.’

He thought of his wife for a moment and then he looked at Emily, and his answer, even if she did not fully understand it, was completely true. ‘I do.’

CHAPTER EIGHT (#u513e9808-37ee-5b1c-8569-ec733bef2466)

‘WHERE ON earth have you been?’ Gina asked when she saw Emily. She had been snapping away as they approached, and only when they had drawn near had Gina realised it was her colleague. ‘You look stunning.’

Emily was dressed in lilac with pale grey stilettos, but it was not the designer wardrobe or the rather hastily applied make-up that had Emily glowing, nor was it the answer she gave to Gina.

‘I’ve managed to get into the wedding.’

‘How?’ Gina wailed. ‘There’s security everywhere. They’re not letting in press.’

‘She’s coming with me.’ Anton stepped forward then and Gina’s mouth literally gaped, and Emily didn’t blame her. He looked amazing in a dark suit. The dark glasses were back on and he looked groomed yet brooding and slightly menacing.

‘Lucky, lucky you,’ Gina said, and she wasn’t talking about the wedding. ‘Are you going to the reception?’

‘No,’ Anton said when it was clear that Emily didn’t know. ‘They would not be so foolish to ask me there.’

He headed off and Emily stood for a moment with Gina. ‘Meet up after?’ Emily asked, while secretly hoping not, but thankfully Gina shook her head.

‘I’m flying back to Rome. I’ll get a few shots of guests going into the reception and then I’m out of here.’ She gave a naughty smile. ‘Don’t tell Adam.’

‘Of course not. I’ll see you back at work on Monday, then.’

‘Emily?’ Gina picked up her hand and looked at the yellow diamonds and seed pearls. ‘How the hell did you swing this?’

‘That’s for me to know,’ Emily said, smiling.

She caught up with Anton, but instead of taking her hand, he seemed distracted. From behind his glasses he was scanning the crowds, his expression unreadable as he observed the guests all mingling outside the church, but then he seemed to remember she was beside him.

‘That is Rosa Corretti.’ He nodded in the direction of a very beautiful woman who wore a flower in her hair that didn’t match her strained expression. ‘She was the apple of Benito’s eye and her brothers keep her on a very short leash.’ As they entered the church and took their places, he pointed out a few others. ‘Over there is Zach Scott. His father is a U.S. senator. Zach was shot down in the war....’ His voice trailed off and he looked around.

It almost killed him to be here.

To watch the groom standing where he once had, though unlike Anton all those years ago Alessandro showed no nerves. This was surely not a love match. Unlike his own wedding.

Emily didn’t notice his sudden pensiveness. Instead she was trying to keep her eyes from popping as they landed on Taylor Carmichael, an American actress who had been off the radar for ages and was making a return. She looked stunning, of course, breathtakingly so. She was wearing a dress so tight she must surely have been sewn into it.

It wasn’t just the guests who were stunning. Her eyes lifted to the stained windows, taking in the architecture as the anticipation built for the bride’s arrival.

‘It’s a beautiful church.’ Emily said it more to herself but her heart stilled for a moment when Anton responded.

‘I was married here.’

There was nothing she could say. Just like earlier, there were no words, so Emily slipped her hand into his.

‘Thank you,’ he said, surprised how much it helped.

‘Well, I could hardly...’

He smiled, not a big one, but there was a lift to the edge of his lips as she referred to earlier, and he never thought he would stand in this place and want another beside him, let alone be able to smile.

The music was starting. All in the church were standing and Emily craned her neck to get a glimpse of the bride as she entered. The dress was all lace, with long sleeves and a high neck, and, though beautiful, Alessia looked terribly wary.

Someone’s phone went off, and remembering that she hadn’t turned hers off, Emily went to do just that but noticed there were a couple of people filming the blushing bride on their phones.

‘Can I?’ she said, remembering the no-press-allowed rule.

‘You’re a guest,’ Anton said. ‘Go for it.’

It was a new phone, though, and instead of filming, she took a shot, just not the one she had intended. She had captured the bride turning, running the wrong way down the aisle. There was commotion all around—the church doors opening, the shocked congregation starting to ask questions, the press going into a frenzy outside.

‘Oh my!’ Emily said. ‘Did she just run off?’ Emily simply could not believe it. ‘This is huge.’